


I’ll be your favourite drug I will get you high

by fixme_in_fortyfive



Series: Kink-Bingo [1]
Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Frottage, M/M, Van Days, kink bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 13:48:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10663908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fixme_in_fortyfive/pseuds/fixme_in_fortyfive
Summary: This is a prompt-fill for my personal littleKink-Bingo. Frotting.It's kind of a sequel toBoys in Vans and Smoking-Kisses, but you don't have to read it to understand what‘s happening here. It's just two boys in the back of a van and things that might happen when you let your best friend shot-gun you.





	I’ll be your favourite drug I will get you high

Smoking with Joe in the back of the van kind of became their _thing_. They spend hours just wasting away time.

Last time they argued – in soft tones, because they’re still high and shouting is too much effort and they’re too relaxed anyway – about the differences between finger-picking and pick-picking.

Huh, pick-picking. It’s probably not as funny as it sounds inside Patrick’s head, but he laughs none the less like it’s the funniest thing he heard in weeks. In his huddled head the word giggles comes to mind and that makes him laugh even more.

“Mind sharing with the group what’s so funny?”

Patrick lifts his head from where he rested it on Joe’s shoulder. It’s too dark to really see him, just the streetlights from the parking shedding a dim light.

“Words,” he says and waits for Joe to crack up, too, but he doesn’t, Patrick can see that much.

Joe smiles though, but not the affectionate smile he shows when Pete is being his crazy self or Patrick is talking about writing music for a new song; it’s more sinister. Okay, sinister might be too strong a word. It’s not nice, is what Patrick means. Words.

“Had a little too much already?” Joe takes a deep hit and Patrick feels how his chest rises with the lungful of smoke he inhaled.

“No, not my fault you’re sense of humor sucks.”

Patrick sits up completely and looks at Joe, hoping he will shot-gun his hit, but Joe just puffs the smoke out into the space between them. Patrick thinks about grabbing the joint from Joe’s hand and take one himself, but Joe’s arms are longer and he would just hold it out of his reach.

“One more, please,” he says instead.

Joe takes another hit and motions Patrick closer with his outstretched finger. When Patrick does he’s leaning over Joe’s body and braces himself on either side of him.

He closes his lips over Joe’s in a kiss-not-a-kiss and inhales the smoke. Joe said, after the first couple of times he did this, it makes him light-headed because Patrick inhales so deep that he literally takes Joe’s breath away; Joe’s words, not Patrick’s. He had just blushed at the time and thrown a pair of socks at the back of Joe’s head, but he had made it his mission to leave Joe light-headed with every hit they shared.

When they part just now Patrick slumps down where he is, burying Joe, who takes a deep hurried breath, under his weight. The weed always makes his limbs heavy and the inside of his head funny.

“You done now?”

Patrick nods his head into Joe’s neck, his breath dampening Joe’s skin. This must be how Pete feels when he’s all over Patrick on stage. Minus the high, although that is probably Pete’s natural high.

It’s not unpleasant. And Joe is pretty comfy.

He feels, rather than sees, Joe putting out the last of the joint in the ashtray. When he’s done he wraps his arms around Patrick’s body. Cuddling is par for the course when they smoke together.

Patrick wriggles his body on top of Joe’s because his hipbone is uncomfortably poking into his thigh. Stupid Joe with his sharp hip bones.

Except, it’s not Joe’s hipbone, his brain provides belated when Patrick wriggles his hips some more and Joe groans low in his throat.

“Ugh, stop poking me with your boner,” he mumbles into Joe’s neck.

“Then stop pushing against me.”

Now Patrick is, even with his muddled brain, acutely aware of Joe’s _not hip bone_. It feels hot against his thigh; like it’s about to burn a hole through his pants, somehow, but Patrick doesn’t want to move. He’s not sure he could, if he tried; his limbs holding him down.

Patrick wriggles some more. Joe’s hands grip Patrick’s hips, holding him in place.

“Don’t start something you won’t finish.”

And that must be a line straight out of a porn movie, Patrick thinks. It’s so cliché that Patrick’s mind wanders to porn, instantly. Cheesy porn with bad pick-up lines – like the one Joe just used.

He’s picking his brain for a smart comeback, but there’s nothing.

“Then let me finish it,” is what he says in the end and he’s probably as surprised as Joe, whose breath stutters and Patrick can feel it through where they’re pressed chest to chest. He doesn’t say anything though.

Patrick takes Joe’s hands into his own, pulling them off his hips.

Patrick rubs his thighs against Joe’s lap, feeling him hard underneath him. Joe groans and he actually grips Patrick’s hands a little harder. Patrick can feel himself getting hard and just like with Joe’s dick pressing against his thigh it feels more intense.

Joe pulls Patrick’s head down for a kiss-definitely-a-kiss and it feels completely different at once; it’s Joe’s tongue on his lips, in his mouth and Patrick can only takes little gasping breaths. He feels a little light-headed himself now.

It feels better than it should, considering that they’re both still dressed and it’s just him rubbing against Joe. Maybe it’s the weed or maybe it’s the little moaning sounds Joe is making that Patrick never heard from him before. Intoxicating and it makes Patrick shiver all over.

“More, come on,” Joe whispers between kisses, still too loud in the small space of the van.

They should have left a window cracked, because the air is getting damp and hot from their combined breaths, but Patrick can’t make himself stop to do it now.

He sits up on Joe’s lap, as far as he can without bumping his head against the roof. He’s holding Joes’ hand tight for support and pushes down once more in a slow roll. He can’t hide the moan that escapes when his dick pushes against Joe’s.

“Yeah, like that.”

Patrick repeats the motion, again and again until his head is swimming and all he can hear are Joe’s moans seemingly surrounding him, the van filled with these filthy little sounds and the rustling of fabric against fabric.

Joe’s hands are on Patrick’s hips again, but not holding this time but instead helping him move up and down against his body.

“Shit.”

Patrick comes first, he’s not surprised, arching his hips up instead of down, eyes shut tightly and spilling hot into his underwear. He slumps forward a little, hold up by Joe’s hands still on his hips.

And Joe is not done yet, he needs just – a little more Patrick guesses by the chocked off sounds he’s making. He keeps rubbing himself against Patrick, the friction now almost too much against his sensitive skin, sending little electric zaps up his spine. Joe pushes Patrick’s hand down to his dick, no doubt a hint to finish like he promised. He rubs his hands up and down in time with his hips over the outline of Joe’s dick.  

Until he feels Joe come into his pants, feels the pulsing under his hand and how a wet spot spreads under them. He would have liked to see Joe’s face in that moment, but he missed it, looking at his hands and where they’ve been working to get Joe off.

He only stops when Joe lets out a low whimper and pushes against Patrick’s hands. Without their moans and groans it’s just them breathing; loud and flustered.

“That was hot,” Joe mumbles and pulls Patrick down again, somehow killing off every chance of any awkwardness setting in with that one move.

Yeah, it was hot.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want, you can also send me a prompt or number for my [Kink-Bingo](http://fixme-in-fortyfive.tumblr.com/post/148848601152/kink-bingo), I would be really happy about that.


End file.
